My Damn Queen - Part 1
This is my first fanfic ever so I’m definitely up for advice!
Shipping: Negan & Reader Warning: Swearing/curse.
Synopsis: You meet Negan and the Saviors for the first time. Words: 883
The rain fell hard that day. You remember it as the day that bought the death. You were stood at the edge of your son’s hospital bed. Your soul was hanging in the balance when he was diagnosed with meningitis. The hospital visits became unbearable, seeing him in pain, lying lifeless with nothing but his chest rising and falling. You blessed every moment that soft chest of his rose and fell. Because when it stopped, the pain was unimaginable. But the rain kept falling.
The world began falling apart all in the same moment for you, havoc was reaping in every hospital room, there were screams dancing in the corridor but you just sat there. Staring at your little boy lying there. You were frozen in the moment, remembering how much hope the little boy had given you when you noticed his hands twitch. His chest began rising and falling again. You jumped up to his side to hold him like the miracle you were wishing for had happened, like the pain could be fixed and his eyes would flutter open and he’d greet you with that fighting look he’d always give you even when he was weak and wanted to die. But this was no miracle; you suddenly understood why there were screams. His eyes fluttered open, but they were not his eyes. They were now cloudy and dark. His hands began to curl and distort themselves to your horror. His head was colder than stone rather than the burning hot fever-ridden temperature he was just minutes ago. Your eyebrows contorted trying to make sense of what was happening when your little boy lunged for you. Biting at you, making you jump metres away to remain untouched. The fear in your heart mirrored that of your lungs as you felt the need to tell yourself to breathe and calculate the situation. This was madness and the time had crept up on you. Turning towards the door, you sprinted to your escape from the dead monster you had only seen in the movies, escaping from the boy you’d have given your life to.
Running out the door, you scuttled through reams of the reanimated, the dead ones. You just ran. You ran through the doors, through the rain and you just didn’t stop running. If you stopped, you knew you’d give in, you knew you’d break. You owed your son a debt to keep living for the days he couldn’t. You lucky son of a bitch owed him that.
You woke to the sound of grunts, they sounded distant. This didn’t startle you anymore as the dead ones were never usually a problem. Climbing down from your bed, your eyes scrolled the floor for a safe landing, being 5 ft 4 had its downfalls. You threw on that old olive t-shirt that hugged your figure dearly and some old faded joggers before putting your boots on. Looking around for a hair tie became the first challenge of the day, so instead you just tucked those auburn locks behind your ears before grabbing your knife.
A dead one had become caught in the spikes and barbed wire fence that surrounded the ladders to your forest house. You were humming that days tune as you drove the knife through its skull. Unlocking the gate, you checked your surroundings, you could hear something. Creeping out of the gate slowly, you adopted a more crouched approach to movement before darting towards a smallish bush for cover. You could hear the whisperings of two men but couldn’t quite pin point to where it was coming from. You observed closely, but there was no sign. The silence was confusing; you made light breaths whilst trying to concentrate. There were never people this far from the road. When you had convinced yourself you were going mad, you jumped up to return to the warmth of your tree house.
“Well hello there!” a deep booming voice startled you, you could feel the tense muscles build as you stood frozen still. There were men becoming visible from the tree line as you met the tall, dark haired and bearded man before you. They had weapons and you were alone. This kind of ambush was planned, or practiced. They must have been watching you.
“I’m Negan, and this is usually the part where you get on your knees doll”. He was looking at you as your knees crept to the floor. You did not hesitate; you did not breathe a word especially when you noticed this choice of weapon. What kind of psychopaths were you dealing with here?
“Oh darlin’, this here is Lucille. And she is fucking sexy as shit!” Negan bellowed, his stature pronounced a playful bounce at the knees, his featured lips parted to flash you a joyful grin. He was clearly a confident man, you hadn’t met his kind of charisma in anyone before.
You stayed quiet, whilst wearing a blank expression. You did not want to die today. That thought produced enough courage to wind your gaze high enough to look this man in the eye. A sudden rage built itself high like a brick wall.
“I am (y/n), and don’t fucking call me doll” you spat through gritted teeth.
You did not want to die today.
To be continued, I’d like to thank anyone who reads this. I’d also like to thank @itsneganslucille and @grungedaddykinks for being absolutely inspirational!! Go read The Silent One here . Go read I Can’t Wait To Hear You Scream here.